A Body Needed That Will Not Betray In her advertisement she posted: A body needed that will not betray. Itís not time to worry yet, said the man who became a blur, who became the devil, who became a liar. Once I was you. Flinging obscenities unto her ungrateful vessel she charged you unwitting fool, admitting a Trojan horse. After I washed and shaved and fed you, why would you? In February, under blankets, she pleaded with paper, her advertisement calling for any other body: accepting fat or wrinkled or incomplete, but loyal. To the grey ghost she saw she asked who are you? And in April when everything rebuilt itself, she sat in silence loathing the small green buds. Translucent tubes delivered death into her blue veins. She said here, itís for you.
© Lindsay Clayton Day